Look After You
by ticklemeElmo667
Summary: Connor and Murphy aren't the only ones with callings. She started having dreams, calling her to the Saints. Will she be able to accept her fate or push it away like the others?
1. Chapter 1

**First Boondock Saints fic so go easy on me!! I wish I could write what Connor and Murphy say in their accents but Microsoft Word doesn't seem to like that very much and I HATE the little red lines under the words that are "spelled wrong" so please forgive me. Hope you like it!**

Connor ducked as a bullet went whizzing past his shoulder. He turned away from his assailant long enough to catch a glance of his twin, Murphy, holding his own against three gunmen. Connor could see the small smirk under Murphy's mask as he took out all three of them with three perfectly aimed shots. Turning back to his own, Connor swiftly pulled the triggers on both his guns sending his two "bad guys" back to their makers.

"Is that all of them?" Murphy called from the opposite end of the warehouse. Somehow they had gotten split up during the mayhem.

"Aye, believe so." Connor replied.

"Good, then let's do this fast and get the fuck out of here. I'm fucking starving." Murphy pulled twelve shiny pennies out of his pocket and laid them on the eyes of his six dead men. He said a silent prayer for each of them and stood to join Connor.

Once they were out of the warehouse, Connor held out his hand.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Murphy asked.

"I told you there were more then ten." Connor said.

"Ah, fuck you." Murphy replied handing him a twenty-dollar bill. Connor smiled and patted his brother on the back.

"That was clean. I could see the fucking smirk on your face." Connor laughed. Murphy laughed and they spent the rest of the walk back to their dingy apartment laughing and joking. As soon as they walked in the front door, the phone rang.

"That'd be Smecker. He'll be so proud." Murphy said.

"Aye." Connor agreed going to answer the phone. The voice he heard on the other line when he answered was not one he was expecting to hear.

"Da?" Connor asked, confused. Murphy stopped taking off his boots and went to join his brother, trying to hear the conversation.

"Aye, just got back from one." Connor said into the phone. "No, it was clean…just a small drug bust…aye…aye…alright talk to you later then…aye." Connor hung up the phone and turned to face Murphy.

"What'd he want?"

"There's someone he wants us to meet."

XXX

Emma Walker stepped out of her shower, head still spinning. No, the shower did not help her incredible headache. _I didn't even have that much to drink!_ She told herself over and over again. She hated lying to herself but it was the only way she could think of that would ease the guilt of last night. Emma hated drinking. _But it was justified!_ She tried again to ease the pain in her head and the nauseating feeling in her stomach that she always got after a late night in a pub and after the dream that was being replayed over and over in her head; she needed a late night in a pub. "Destroy all that which is evil…so that what is good may flourish." _What the hell does that mean?_ _I really must be going crazy._ Emma shook of the memory of the dream and toweled her hair.

Her apartment was small, but it was all she needed. There were two bedrooms, for whatever reason, a cozy kitchen that always caught the morning sunlight, a small living room with an even smaller porch that overlooked the playground in the back of her apartment complex. Emma slipped into a warm pair of North Face fleece sweats and a comfortable sweatshirt from high school. _Maybe a cup of coffee will straighten this out._ She walked into her kitchen only to find that sometime during the night she had tried to make a cup and ended up throwing the machine to the floor. She sighed and picked it up and realized that there was no way it was ever going to spit out another drop of coffee. _I guess I'm going out then. _

She walked out into the cold air and shuddered when it hit her face. There was a small diner just down the street. She wrapped her thin cashmere sweater tighter around her and quickened her step. As she walked, she got the frequent feeling that someone was either following her or watching her from an alley. Not wasting any time, Emma burst through the door of the diner and quickly sat herself in the far corner of the restaurant where she could see the front door and the majority of the rest of the room, just to be safe. Not five minutes after she entered, two tall men with similar features dressed exactly the same walked in. They were dressed in blue jeans, dark T-shirt and black pea coat. They sat at a booth not far from where she sat. The darker haired one sat with his back facing her and was out of sight but she still had a perfect view of the lighter haired one.

XXX

"Murph, there's not fucking coffee!" Connor called from the dingy kitchen of their even dingier apartment.

"Well that the hell am I supposed to do about that?" Murphy replied.

"You know how I get without my coffee."

"Aye, I guess we're going out then." Murphy lazily got up from the couch and grabbed his and Connor's coats, tossing Connor his as he passed the kitchen.

"I guess we are." Connor said with a smirk. Murphy just rolled his eyes.

"You are you're fucking coffee."

The MacManus brothers were about to make their way to their regular diner but something caught Conner's eyes. A woman was walking along the sidewalk, clearly cold. She was just as Da had described her. She had long dark red hair and creamy skin. Light freckles danced across her nose.

"Conn, it's not polite to stare." Murphy nudged his brother playfully.

"No, that's her. She's the one Da wanted us to get."

"Are you sure?"

"I don't know. Worth checking out."

"Aye, let's go then."

They watched from a distance as she entered the diner and waited a few minutes before following her lead. Carefully choosing a table that didn't look suspicious, they sat and ordered.

"Let's talk business then." Murphy said once their food had arrived.

"Aye. Da said she lives in an apartment about four blocks away from McGinty's." Connor replied.

"So we watch." Murphy knew the next few weeks would be spent lurking in alleys and following close, but not too close, behind Miss Walker. She was pretty enough. Long dark hair flowed past her shoulder blades and she was petite but was definitely toned. Every time she looked down at her coffee or in the direction away from the brothers, Connor would steal a cautious glance at her. _Well she sure is a pretty little thing._ Connor thought after his most recent fleeting look.

"I would have to agree with you on that one." Murphy said. Connor had gotten that look again. The look where he was more than interested in a woman, he was enthralled. Connor didn't even feel the impulse to argue his brother. Murphy knew Connor better then he knew himself, and Connor knew it. So when Murphy made comments like this where he practically read Connor's mind, there was no need for discussion.

"I almost don't want to start the awkward part of this. She seems too fuckin' normal. I don't want to take that away from her." Connor said even though he already knew Murphy was thinking the same thing.

"Aye. But I think she might be questioning her own sanity after the dream she must have had."

"Aye."

XXX

Emma sighed as she walked back home. She had gotten the feeling someone was following her but every time she turned around there was only a happy old couple walking about a half a block behind her. They turned down a different street and she was completely alone. _The rest of Boston must be sleeping._

When she finally reached her apartment, the being followed feeling was long gone and her feet were itching for a run. Deciding it was easier not to fight her feet she slipped into a pair of short running shorts and a T-shirt. She pulled her hair into a pony tail, slipped on her running shoes, grabbed her iPod and left. The second the cold air hit her face she regretted shorts. Oh well, her lets would warm up as soon as she started moving. Enjoying the air on the rest of her body she raised her arms above her head and stretched.

Her feet carried her over three miles from her apartment building down the street to the post office. When she was less than a mile away from her building, she noticed that she was quickly approaching two men in matching picots and jeans. One had slightly lighter hair than the other. They noticed her coming and she nodded flirtatiously as she passed them.

"I think she just have you the nod." Murphy laughed.

"Fuck off. She's a job and if she's anything like the other ones, there'll be no use in flirting with her." Connor huffed. Murphy laughed at his reaction and they waited until she had rounded the corner before following. They stopped again once they were out of sight of her but her building was perfectly insight to them. Katie had stopped running on the main road and took the last twenty meters or so to cool down. She clicked her iPod off and bent down to stretch out her hamstrings.

Connor and Murphy watched as Emma reached the front of her building. She pulled her iPod away from her and bent down to stretch. Her shirt fell forward just enough to reveal about two inches of creamy, but tan, skin. Connor was almost mesmerized by her beauty. Murphy glanced at his brother and laughed at the look on his face.

"Conn, you've seen a girl before, haven't you?"

"Aye." Connor's word was just above a whisper. He hadn't even heard what Murphy was joking with him about. His eyes traveled over her toned backside and down each long smooth leg. He watched as she stood up, shock her legs out and entered her building.

"I can see this leading to a problem." Murphy teased again once they saw her disappear out of sight.

"I was watching her, you were to. So don't even fuckin' start."

"Aye but I wasn't the one fuckin' ogling over a little bare skin." Connor just shook his head. And here they started the second-worst part of this job. The following.

XXX

Emma rolled out of bed the next morning with an incredible headache. She had the dream again. She had been quietly creeping through an impossibly dark alley when she heard something glass break behind her. Spinning around she saw a man on his knees with three dark figures behind him. The figures were muttering something, sounding like prayers. Then the voice boomed through her head. "Destroy all that which is evil…so that what is good may flourish." She had forced herself awake by that point, refusing to see what else the dream had in store for her. She groaned at the soreness in her leg. She cursed when she realized she didn't stretch quite enough after her run so her leg had cramped up.

"Fuck." That was all she could say as she rolled out of bed and slipped into a warm pair of fuzzy slippers. She padded into the bathroom and washed up before she had to go to work.

The week slipped by with absolutely nothing of importance happening. She only got the feeling that someone was watching her once or twice and she hadn't had the dream again. Her life was back into her regular routine, and she loved it that way.

XXX

"It's time m'boys." Da said from the phone.

"Aye, we'll do it tomorrow. After she gets home from work." Murphy replied.

Murphy hung up with their father and turned to face Connor.

"So that's it. We're doing it tomorrow." Connor repeated more to himself than Murphy.

"Aye. Ready for rejection?" Murphy laughed. For a moment Connor thought his twin was talking about him personally.

"Aye." Connor laughed in response. He knew she would slam the door in his face but if that meant he would see her again, he was okay with that. _She's just a job. Pull yourself the fuck together. You've never even talked to her._

"You okay?" Murphy asked noticing his brother's sudden fall into silence.

"Yeah, just thinking about tomorrow. It's going to be a long day."

"It is."

**So what do you think?? Review please!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Well didn't get any reviews… I'll continue though. Maybe they'll start once I get a few more chapters up. **

Emma watched as cars slid by on the wet street. It had been raining for three hours now and there were no signs of it ceasing. After living in Boston for three years, she expected to be used to the weather by now but she wasn't. It hardly ever rained in Colorado, where she grew up. But when it did she would run outside and play in the puddles for hours before her aunt called her back inside.

She was sitting by the window of the chic bar that she currently worked in, instead of cleaning the tables like she was supposed to be doing, when one of her colleagues tapped her lightly on the shoulder.

"Boss wants to talk to you. Didn't say what he wanted." Shelly informed her. Without replying, Emma stood and walked to the back room and through the door that led to Walter's office. Walter was nearing his fifties, even though he would never admit it, and grey streaks were beginning to lightly pepper his hair. Emma had worked for him for three months and in that time he had hit on her over twenty times, not to go unnoticed by the rest of the employees. Emma knocked twice before letting herself in. Walter was sitting in his chair facing away from her and seemed to be on a very important phone call. When it ended he spun around and motioned for Emma to take a seat.

"It's been a long time since you've been in here." Walter commented.

"Yes." Emma said. The last time she was here he had moved around the desk and was looking down her shirt, about to make a serious move when a bar fight broke out and Walter was torn away, much to his displeasure. "Is there something you would like to speak to me about? Because I have a lot of work to do."

"Well," Walter raised a suggestive eyebrow at her and moved around his desk. Emma silently cursed herself for wearing a skirt that day. He had made flirtatious comments to her and she caught him trying to look down her shirt or up her skirt but he had never touched her. He moved past her and locked the door. Emma froze in her chair. She heard him walk slowly back to her and she willed herself not to spin around and cut his head off with the pocketknife she knew was in his desk drawer. He lightly brushed her hair off her shoulders and began to massage her. Emma was too shocked to move. The second his hands began moving down her front she shot up from her chair. But Walter was ready for her. He caught her wrist and shoved her back against the office wall causing three of his prized trophies to crash to the floor. At that moment he didn't seem to care. He pinned Emma's arms above her head with one of his arms and began trying to unbutton her top.

"Get off me!" Emma writhed with all her might but his weight pushing her against the wall was making breathing difficult. Now she was furious. All she could feel was his hot breath on her neck when her knee found an opening. Emma watched as her boss dropped to the floor in pain, holding himself. She didn't waste another second and was out the door of the bar before any of her colleagues could say a word. She had no idea where she was going she just wanted to get as far away from that bar as she physically could.

She found herself in a narrow alleyway three blocks away from the bar when her breathing finally regulated. Sighing in relief she leaned against the wall of the building and closed her eyes. She was still working on making her hands stop shaking when there was a scuffle and a click right next to her ear. She spun around and came face to face with the bottom half of something metal. Before her eyes could adjust to anything else, she realized that it was a gun.

"Oh God," she whimpered. Emma was going through the stages of being caught in an alley in the dead of night with a gun pointed to her head. The raw horror came first, then the pleading for her life, then the realization that this could really be the end, then silently accepting fate, replaying memories, and finally the sheer furry. _This is not happening._ Emma had been forced to the ground on her knees with the gun pointed at the center the back of her head. Her assailant was a huge man, Italian by his accent and very willing to shoot her head off if she didn't listen to him. She was in this position when she entered the furry stage. _No. Not after everything you just went through._ At that moment, headlights flashed twice and her assailant looked up.

"Our ride is here. You didn't think I would just kill you here, did you?" He laughed and pulled her to her feet by her hair. This was her moment, and she took it. The instant she was on her feet, she took one step away and kicked the man directly in the chest, causing him to drop to his knees and fling the gun out of his hands. Emma grabbed it and held it to his head.

"Who are you?" She asked, more as a statement then a question. Before she got her answer there was a soft zipping sound and the man fell at her feet. Emma stumbled back in surprise and frantically looked around for the shooter.

Two dark figures emerged from the darkest corner of the alley and without looking at her, placed two pennies on her attacker's eyes and bent down on one knee. They mumbled a prayer and finally stood to meet her eyes. Emma was too horrified and shocked to force any words out of her mouth so she just stared. And the two men stared back. For a few minutes, any one passing by would think they were having a staring contest, each challenging the other to look away or speak first. The darker haired man broke eye contact and turned to the other.

"I don't think this was supposed to happen this way." He said. His lilting accent was perfect and sounded as though he had just stepped off the plane after a lifetime in Ireland.

"Me neither. Are ye alright?" The lighter haired one agreed. He had not yet looked away. Emma shook her head before her knees gave out and she slumped to the alley ground. Both men made a move to help her but she held her hand up.

"I…d-don't touch me." She stuttered. Emma closed her eyes and took a deep breath as if that was the hardest thing she was ever asked to do. Keep breathing.

"We aren't going to hurt ye." The lighter one said softly. If she had heard him she didn't make any suggestion to it.

"What did you mean when you said this wasn't supposed to happen this way?" Emma finally asked. The two men looked at each other and then back at her.

"Not here. We will explain everything to you. Just not here." The dark one said. He held out his hand for her to take but she pushed it away.

"I was just assaulted by my boss, held at gun point, and watched a man be shot straight in the head by you. Do you honestly think I will go anywhere with you?" Emma didn't wait for an answer. She stood up and quickly walked to the street.

"We know about your dreams. And better, we can explain them." One of the men said. Emma stopped dead in her tracks.

"How do you know about my dreams?" Her voice was low and streaked with furry. How dare they? Whoever they were.

"Come with us and we will explain everything. And we won't touch you. We'll walk two steps ahead of you also, if you would rather." The light one said with an almost soothing smile. Almost. Emma sighed and complied. She would finally get some answers and they said they wouldn't touch her.

She followed them out of the alley and down the street now dimly lit by the few street lamps. She lost track of time and how far they had gone. She focused on her feet and tried to sort out the events of the past hour. Her thoughts engulfed her so fully she didn't realize the two men had stopped until she barreled straight into the back of one of them.

"Easy there, soldier." The light one laughed. "Well here we are." They led her up four flights of stairs and into a dark one-room apartment that reeked of bear, smoke and other manly stenches that will remain unmentioned.

"Jesus, you live here?" Emma asked wrinkling her nose at the smell flooding her nostrils.

"Is there a problem?" The dark one asked giving her a skeptical look.

"No, its just…ew." In her hand she held up a ripped and torn cloth that had been drenched in blood.

"I thought I fuckin' told ye to through that out!" The light one playfully smacked the other on the back of his head, ensuing a smacking war. Emma cleared her throat, still eager to get home and into the bath.

"Right. Well I guess first things first. I'm Connor and this is my moron brother Murphy. Born and raised in Ireland, moved here 'bout a year ago." Connor said.

"Your dreams are telling you to destroy all that which is evil so that what is good may flourish. Do you want the long version or the short?" Murphy asked. Connor didn't wait for an answer.

"Ye are a Saint. That dream was your calling. God has a plan for all of us and yours was to meet us, join us, and help us. When you didn't the dream came again. And now you have a choice and if you're anything like the others, you'll find something heavy, throw it at us, scream and tell us never to come near you ever again." Connor said starting to back towards the door.

There were a million thoughts running around Emma's head. The Saints. She had seen them on TV after a horrendous murder in a courtroom and had heard about various mob men dropping dead all over Boston. She had never really paid attention to the stories, so she hadn't formed an opinion of whether she was for them or against them. That decision was just made for her.

"Well?" Murphy asked after Emma showed no sign of reaching for a heavy object. This was it. Emma was never going back.

"Trying to contain my enthusiasm."


	3. Chapter 3

**AAAAH!!! I have a reviewer!!!! You have no idea how happy that makes me!!! Okay, now I can update lots more. **

Emma's training started the next day. Although the MacManus brothers never had a chance to test their training theories, they had planned them out fully. After mass, the brothers taught Emma everything about guns: how to clean a gun, how to mantle and dismantle guns, how to cut her reload time in half, how to shoot a moving target, et cetera. There was no need for target practice. Then they taught her how to be more comfortable handling knives, then throwing and catching them. Connor and Murphy were surprised by her accuracy at throwing the knives at a target. They moved every breakable object in the twin's apartment out of the way and made the one room loft into a makeshift boxing ring. Emma didn't need much guidance in that department. Growing up having to fend for herself gave Emma the chance to practice her punching-kicking-beating skills.

"Jesus woman." Connor said holding his left eye after being on the receiving end of an especially hard punch.

"Ye, Connor, are getting sloppy out there." Murphy said smugly from the couch where he sat drinking a beer.

"Oh ya? Get your fat ass out here and try getting a punch in against little Ali over here." Connor replied rising to his feet.

"Sorry about that," Emma said, clearly trying to hide her smiles.

"No you're not." Murphy laughed.

Emma was surprised at how quickly she came to know and like the MacManus brothers. It was easy to lose herself in their jokes and smirks, not to mention their looks. But no matter comfortable she thought she was getting, something kept holding her back. Something that wasn't letting her completely trust the brothers or the situation.

"Can we be done now?" Murphy wined. Emma plopped down on the floor next to him and laid her head in his lap.

"Agreed. We've been doing this all day." She sighed and closed her eyes but opened them again when the felt someone standing over her.

"Fine. We can be done for today but we have to keep working on this tomorrow." Connor said. Da had trusted Connor with the burden of making the new Saint ready and clearly Murphy was not making the task easier for him.

Emma lay there, on the dirty floor with her head in Murphy's laugh until her eyes began to droop. She listened to them banter in a half loving, half frustrated way every once and a while injecting words of agreement. But Emma's mind was not in the conversation. There were too many things swirling around in her head that made it hard to focus on anything.

What about her life? She had been happy. She didn't have a lot, just a steady job that paid the bills, a few friends from work and her books. If everything else was taken away from her except for her books, she could live. They soothed her and inspired her. Would she be able to return to her apartment and look at it the same ever again?

What was she supposed to do after training with them for a few days? They hadn't said anything about their plan for her. The thought made her inwardly laugh. _Their plan for her._ She was supposed to be planning her own life, living the way she wanted to, falling in love, getting married, having children and a warm sunny home on the coast somewhere. She was supposed to be planning family reunions instead of planning a murder. She was supposed to be scheduling lunch dates with her tight circle of friends that she was supposed to have or parent-teacher conferences with her husband rather than when the next hit would be.

Emma had to stop thinking this way if she was expected to forget the life that would have been and learn to accept her responsibility as a Saint. She couldn't keep this to herself any longer. She needed answers. "What am I supposed to do?" The question stopped Murphy and Connor in the middle of a quickly escalating quarrel.

"What do ye mean?" Connor asked.

"What about my job? My apartment? My friends? Are you just going to send me home and call me when you need someone dead and can't do it by yourself? Where do I live if I can't go back to my apartment?" Emma asked as more and more questions popped into her head. The look on the brother's face made her stop. It was a grim look. Something that made her believe that she would never see those things again. All her memories from high school and college would be gone. Emma closed her eyes and tried to make a list of everything that she wanted to remember. Images flashed before her eyes but soon disappeared for another to show. An entire lifetime of experiences and occurrences and this was where it all had led her.

"Emma-" Murphy began but Connor cut him off.

"Ye don't have to do this. Ye can go back to your life and forget we ever came to ye." Connor went to her and was standing so close to her that Emma could feel the hope and worry radiate off him. She didn't expect this answer; it was too easy. She was so confused. Now that she knew what else was in store for her, she couldn't leave it. All the needed was answers. She would be able to stay and help the MacManuses; she just wanted to know what this meant for the rest of her life.

"No, I don't want to. I want to stay with you. I just need to know what I do with my apartment if I live here, or if I quit my job, or if I just go back to living normally and you call me when you need my help." Emma found herself able to take comfort in the closeness of Connor. There was something in his eyes that she couldn't quite place, but she knew it was there.

"Well the plan was always for ye to stay with us but keep your apartment and your job. If all of a sudden ye disappear from work and sell your apartment while the Saints have a new member, someone smart will be able to connect the dots." Murphy explained. Emma couldn't tell whether she was relieved or disappointed.

"Okay," Emma murmured.

"Are ye alright?" Connor whispered. Emma nodded her head but as she looked down at her shoes, her vision started to blur and she felt one hot tear trickle down her cheek. She had no idea why it had formed in the first place. The only reason she could think of was the emotional charge that had been built up for the past few days finally got the best of her. She looked up and prayed that Connor had missed the tear but the look on his face told her that he had seen it. Without a word he pulled her close to him in a soothing hug. Emma breathed in his smell: a mix between soap, soft cologne and Connor.

"I know it's a lot to cope with. And it does take some time to get used to, but we'll give ye all the time ye need. We'll leave in a few minutes." Connor said in her ear. Confused, Emma pulled away.

"Leave? Where are you going?" she asked.

"We are taking ye home so ye can pack." Murphy said with a comforting smile.

Emma rushed inside her apartment and grabbed the duffle bag from the front hallway closet. Connor had waited in the car just in case, and Murphy escorted her, much to her distaste. Emma stopped just inside the door of her bedroom and looked around. She had no idea where to start. She knew she needed clothes and toiletries, the basics, but she also needed comforting personal things. That was what baffled her. There were so many things she thought she couldn't live without. She heard Murphy come in behind her.

"How's it coming?" He asked but frowned at the sight of her completely limp and empty bag.

"I don't even know where to start." Emma threw the bag onto her bed and stared blankly around her room. Everything in sight became a comforting personal item.

"What's the easiest?" Murphy asked but regretted the question as soon as it passed his lips. None of this was easy. "Why don't we start with the bathroom?" Emma nodded. She would deal with the difficult part later. She found a toiletry bag and stuffed it with her toothbrush, toothpaste, face wash, lotions, and various shower articles. She filled a small make up bag with the necessities but silently laughed at how stupid and useless it that all seemed now.

She opened the door to the miniature closet in her bathroom and scanned over the shelves until she reached the middle-most shelf that held her personal jewelry and her mother's jewelry box. _So much for saving the difficult for later._ She thought as she took both boxes from their resting places. The only items she packed from her own box was the last birthday present she received from her mother: a platinum cross that hung on a silver chain with the word _animus_ inscribed on the back. Her mother's jewelry box was to remain locked. Emma knew every single piece of precious silver in the box better than anything. Over her lifetime, she had spent hours examining and wearing every single piece. She couldn't take it with her, but couldn't leave it here, unprotected, while she was away. There was only one place she could put it where she knew she would be able to trust that it would remain untouched by anyone outside her direct family forever. Emma carried the box without a word past Murphy and into her closet. She pushed her clothes aside and moved the hamper that covered the valuable corner of the closet. She picked at the carpet until she felt it give and pulled it up as far as it would go. She felt around in the dark until she felt the tiny familiar clasp. Lifting it up, the musky smell filled her head. The square-foot compartment that lay underneath the floorboard, carpet, hamper and clothes was the most cherished place in her apartment. She carefully placed the jewelry box inside and hid the entire corner of the closet once again.

"What the hell were you doing in there?" Murphy asked when she returned to her room.

"Me? Nothing, just looking for the back of an earring. Didn't find it." Emma lied. "What do you suggest I'll need for clothes? Will we be able to do laundry?"

"Pack for about two weeks and we get to laundry when we can but now that we have a respectable female among us, I expect we'll be doing a lot more of that." Murphy gave her a reassuring smile and left her to pack. Emma packed three pairs of jeans, one of which she planned to reserve for hits, two pairs of sweat pants, running clothes, even though she had no idea whether she would get the chance to run with her new lifestyle, her sneakers, a sweatshirt, shirts for going out, staying in and killing. She packed a few pairs of work clothes and pairs of shoes, bras and underwear. While she packed, she absentmindedly thought of what she would bring that could help keep her close to this home when she realized that she didn't want to be kept close. This place had been her home, but it had also been home to bad memories along with good ones. Emma decided to fill a small photo album with only her favorite pictures. And that was all she needed.

Emma slowly looked around her bedroom at all the familiar things and took a deep breath.

"Okay," Emma said quietly as she joined Murphy in the living room.

"Ye ready?" he asked standing from her floor in front of the television where he had been looking at her movie collection. The thought caused her another soft pang of longing but she pushed it down.

"Yeah, ready as I'll ever be."

"Emma, it's not as if ye'll never see this place again. Think of it as going to summer camp. Ye'll be back." Murphy took the bag from her and led her to the door.

"Thanks, Murph." Emma paused next the kitchen and she imagined the MacManus kitchen. Cleaning supplies. She grabbed a plastic bag and filled it with various cleaning supplies and air freshener. Murphy gave her a strange look.

"It's not that bad." He said defensively.

"Murph, come on. When was the last time you could see out of your windows?" When he didn't reply, Emma laughed. "Exactly. Come on." Maybe, just maybe, Emma would be able to live with this. And better yet, enjoy it.

"Murph! What's for dinner?" Connor called from the bedroom where he and Emma were making the bed.

"How the fuck should I know?" Murphy called back.

"We have no dinner?" Emma asked looking at Connor. He smiled at her.

"Do ye really think we would starve ye the first night ye were with us?" Connor laughed at the expression on Emma's face as if she was seriously considering the question. "Pizza!" he called back to Murphy.

After dinner, the three sat around the living room corner of the apartment watching an old Western movie. No matter how hard she tried, Emma couldn't get her mind on the movie.

"I think I'll go unpack. I don't want to have to do it in the morning." She said, politely excusing herself.

"Good idea. We're going to see Smecker tomorrow." Murphy commented.

"Smecker?" Emma asked. Another Saint? Jeez, how many were there?

"He's kind of like our inside man. He works with the FBI and Boston Police." Connor explained.

"You have your own FBI agent?" Emma asked laughing. The twins laughed.

"Kind of," Emma decided to let them get back to their movie and left them. Apparently the one room where they ate, slept, and watched TV wasn't the only room in the apartment. There was a bathroom and a single bedroom. She couldn't understand why the twins hadn't slept there, but was glad they gave her the privacy of her own room.

She found herself sitting on the bed after hardly unpacking staring at a single picture in her album when the door opened.

"We're about to head to bed. How's the unpacking?" Connor asked.

"Fine." Emma said barely above a whisper.

"What's the matter? Ye barely unpacked at all." He moved to sit next to her.

"It's nothing. I guess this whole moving in thing hasn't really hit me until now." Emma said. She hadn't planned on having this conversation with Connor but now that it was started, there was no going back.

"We'll give ye all the time that ye need."

"I know you will. You guys have been so good to me, considering the circumstances. I appreciate it."

"Well ye've handled this very well, considering the circumstances. This couldn't have been easy for ye." Emma shook her head. He was so easy to talk to, so comforting, so…no. She couldn't let herself go there. He was a Saint; she was a Saint.

"Thank you." Connor slipped her into another hug but held onto her longer this time and Emma once again found herself losing all sense to his smell and his touch. When he pulled away, Emma gave him a warm smile but it slid away when she saw the look in his eyes. It was the look from before, only this time it had taken over his entire being. Emma felt heat in her stomach and the temperature rise in the entire room as she realized what the look was. Passion.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry it took me a little longer than usual to get this chapter up. If anyone is interested in being a beta please let me know!!! And then explain to me how they work…haha. Here it is:**

Emma woke with a start. There were beads of sweat on her forehead and her sheets were damp. Her T-shirt and small shorts stuck to her as she stood up. Her dream had been one of the worst she had experienced. The three of them had been on a hit, but somewhere it had gone wrong.

_I was standing in a warehouse with Connor and Murphy. Everything was under control. Drug dealers were dropping all around me. I focused only on the ones who came close enough to us to become a problem while the brothers took out the rest. Suddenly they were all around us, too many to count. Murphy was on his last round. The next few minutes of the dream were cut. The next time I saw Connor and Murphy they were tied to chairs, bloody and beaten. I was on my knees with something cold and metal to the center of my scull. There was blood everywhere; I couldn't tell whose it was. We were all so bloody. I looked down at my own body to see a tear in my pants and blood gushing out from it. There was too much blood. I heard my killer cock the gun. _

Emma had forced herself awake from the dream. She ran a shaky hand through her hair and took a deep breath. _Shower._ _I need a shower._ She padded out of her room and started towards the bathroom hoping not to wake the others in the early hours of the morning.

"Good. Ye're awake. We're going ta see Smecker in a little. Coffee? Oh, ye might want to find yourself some fuckin' pants. Smecker doesn't exactly swing that way." Murphy was situated at the small kitchen table drinking a large mug of coffee. His laughing manor switched to worry when he saw her face. "What's the matter?" Emma just shook her head.

"I just had a rough night. But it's okay. I just need a shower." She began walking away when Murphy grabbed her arm.

"Does this have anything to do with Connor? He told me about last night. I know sometimes he can seem a little closed off, like all he wants to do is push people away, but once he lets ye in, ye're fuckin' in for good." Murphy looked like he was about to ramble on for an hour about how Connor gets with girls, but Emma saved him the trouble and cut him off before he could get too far.

"Connor and I talked last night but nothing more. I'm in this with you guys because that seems to be what was meant for me. If getting involved with Connor means adding more complications, then keeping our emotions in check will be the best thing." Emma assured him. Even though the words were coming out of her mouth, the rest of her entire being was screaming the opposite.

"If that's what ye want. Coffee?" Murphy asked again, indicating that this conversation was over.

"No thanks. I'm in dire need of a shower." Just as Emma closed and locked the door to the bathroom, she heard the front door to the apartment open and Connor enter. She stood with her ear to the door and listen for a few moments. She heard their lilting voices escalate from a softly heated discussion to a raised argument over something that Emma could not quite understand. Was that Italian? No, she was sure that was Spanish. No, she had no idea.

After her shower and dressed in jeans and a grey zip up jacket over a small black tank top that clung to her curves, Emma joined the MacManuses on the couch.

"Well ye clean up nicely." Murphy joked. Emma did a small turn, laughing.

"Are we going to see Smecker now?" She asked taking a seat next to Connor.

"Aye, we're leavin' right now." Connor stood just as Emma sat down. She turned to Murphy confused. Why hadn't he looked at her all morning? Murphy shrugged, telling her to forget it as they had more important things to worry about.

Smecker's office was a little too dark and gloomy for Emma's personal liking, but it seemed to fit well for what they were there for.

"Ms. Walker, it's so nice to finally meet you." Smecker said warmly when the three entered. Surprised, Emma shot Connor a confused look. How did he know her whole name?

"You to, Agent Smecker." Emma replied politely.

"Please, it's Paul. Congratulations, boys. You finally found a keeper. She's pretty also. How'd you manage that one?" Smecker's friendly and welcoming tone made Emma smile.

"We have Da ta thank for that." Connor said, meeting Emma's eyes momentarily.

"I'm glad." Smecker took the seat behind his desk and motioned for the others to do the same. "We have news." His friendly and welcoming tone from before had been replaced with serious business-like one. Sitting in the middle, Emma felt Connor and Murphy tense in their seats. This was Emma's first job tip. "Turns out, Yakavetta had more followers then we thought. Not only was he head of the Italian mob; he had ties with the Russians also, and they were not pleased with the news of his death. The details are still very fuzzy but the main picture we were able to sort out was this: The Russians and the remaining Yakavetta family are coming together and their basic plan is to remove any threats-"

"Meaning us," Murphy interjected for the sake of Emma, which was entirely unnecessary to her.

"and then take each other out." Smecker finished, ignoring Murphy's interruption.

"Which would generally be fine if we weren't a fuckin' threat." Connor explained somewhat bitterly, which, once again, was old news to Emma.

"So we just prevent all this from happening and take them both out before they have the chance to get to us first?" She asked, making sure she understood the idea.

"She's smart to." Smecker commented to the brothers.

"Aye. Do we have a set time or place we can watch?" Connor asked. Emma was taken aback at how quickly the twins were able to switch from playful mode to kill mode. She made a mental note to work on that for herself.

"We have a place, not a time. There's a shitty motel a couple blocks away from where you had your first real hit after the brush with the Russians. They have most of their meetings there so see if you can watch around that place and catch anything about when would be a good time." Smecker suggested writing down the address for the motel on a slip and handing it to Murphy who shoved it into his pocket without looking at it. "You three better leave now. Call me if you need anything." Smecker stood and shook hands with the three and they left without another word.

Emma's head was working hard to process all the new information and fell very quiet during the walk back to the apartment.

"Are ye alright?" Murphy asked, still being the only brother to speak to her all day.

"Yeah, just thinking. This is still new." She replied, keeping her eyes on her feet.

"Aye, just remember: evil man, dead man." Connor met her eyes at that moment for the first time. He was not the Connor she had grown to like over the past few days. This was an entirely different Connor who's eyes were darker, more sinful, and scarred. This was the Connor that killed.

Emma broke eye contact first. She couldn't shake the look in his eyes from her memory and it started to make her sick.

"Ye don't look too good." Connor commented when they reached the apartment after a completely silent walk home. His voice was softer as he spoke but she knew it was forced.

"Aye, you're kind of fucking green." Murphy joked.

"Am I really? Oh, well I guess I'll just lie down for a little." And she left the room without another word. As soon as Emma left the room, Murphy turned on Connor.

"What the fuck's the matter with ye?" He asked forcefully. He had only known Emma for a few days and he was already taking on the big-brother role that Connor had always taken from him.

"What the fuck are ye talking about?" Connor retorted, somewhat calmer.

"Look, I know ye have feelings for the lass. I can't say what they are because after the ass you made of yourself today I can't quite tell, but I know you have some feelings."

"Murph, if the two of us were to get involved, things would get so complicated we wouldn't be able to function properly. And the Lord fucking knows that I'm not about to fuck this up." Connor spoke as if he had just surrendered and was explaining himself to all those who he had let down through that action.

"Alright. That's what the lass said as well. If the two of ye can pull this shit off, I will be fucking impressed." Murphy snorted.

"What the fuck's that supposed to mean?" Connor's temper was starting to rise again.

"We're not exactly in normal circumstances here, Connor. We stay cooped up here for the majority of our days and when we go out, we kill. The two of us have been inseparable ever since we were born; we're used to each other. The lass, she's another story. There's a reason why this job wasn't meant for women in the beginning." Murphy shot back. Not wanting to fight any longer, Connor nodded and turned away. Murphy, always knowing how to read his brother's actions better than his own, took this as a sign that Connor would push himself to keep Emma at arm's length for the sake of the sanity of all of them.

The second Emma's head hit the pillow and her eyes shut, her mind drifted into dreamland and she was fast asleep. The heated argument that was taking place on the opposite side of the door fell on deaf ears as Emma's breathing regulated.

When she woke she rolled over to her back and listened to the sounds of the apartment. The dull roar of the TV covered most other sounds. It sounded as though the brothers were listening to the news. Murphy yelled something to Connor in a foreign language and Emma made a mental note to ask them about their various tongues later. Emma pulled herself into a seated position against the wall and listened further.

"Oy! Murph!" Connor called from the TV. Emma heard Murphy pad over to where Connor was sitting.

"What the fuck?" Murphy's disgusted voice rang out and Emma knew something was wrong. Her ears prickled as they ached for a new sound. The TV was not loud enough for her to understand what was happening. Before she could focus on listening any longer, the door to her room burst open and Connor rushed in.

"They hit before we could get ta them. Hit up a private bank uptown a bit, stole everything and killed everyone in there. Last time they were seen they were heading for a warehouse. If their smart they'll stay there until this cools off and not try to leave. If we're smart we'll hit them tonight." Connor said in one breath.

"Which we are. Get up and get ready." Murphy chimed in from the door. Emma threw the covers off her and followed the brothers out of the room. It was here. Her first kill. _Oh, God._ She stopped just outside the room and leaned her head against the wall. Her breathing was quick and desperate. It was Connor who stopped and found her.

"Are ye alright?" He asked coming back to where she was standing.

"I'm not ready for this. I can't kill anyone!" Emma whispered hoarsely. Connor moved in front of her and put his strong arms on either side of her shoulders against the wall.

"Ye are. Ye have been ready for this since the second you were born. Just start out slow and the rest will come to ye. And hey," Connor let his hand fall to her chin and lifted her face to look into her eyes. "Murph and I will be right next to ye the whole time. We…I won't let anything happen to ye. Alright?" Emma nodded and he gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead before going to join Murphy in front of the news once more to get any more information.

Emma took a deep breath and went back into her room to change. She slipped into a pair of dark wash jeans, a tight black sweater and black wedge boots that were silent as socks when she walked. Her breathing had not yet subsided back to a normal rate when she checked her final reflection in the small bathroom mirror. Emma heard the final preparations taking place outside the door and she knew it was time.

It was time for men to die.


	5. Chapter 5

**I love my wonderful reviewers! You keep the story going. **

Silence. Such a simple command could cause such torture. It was silence that echoed through the car as Connor drove, silence that followed the rushed plan that was laid out to Emma, and silence that filled her brain. It was as if she was a completely different person. They all were. They were no longer the three that joked around putting each other in headlocks and having stupid emotional outbursts. Now they were killers. Now they were Saints. Emma closed her eyes and forced the growing knot in her stomach further down. Connor had given her expensive looking black leather gloves and a black mask that she was now fidgeting with. There were two black duffle bags resting on the seat next to her. There was still a tinge of curiosity that surfaced every time they caught her eye even though she knew perfectly well what rested within them.

"These men aren't high up in the mob, Emma. This one's not a big deal. Just a few Russians doin' some dirty work." Murphy commented when he turned around and caught Emma eyeing the bags. His attempt to comfort her made little impact on her. She saw Connor glance briefly in the mirror before averting his eyes back to the road.

"Murphy, they killed innocent civilians. I would hardly call that doing some dirty work." Emma replied, sounding much more bitter than she had intended.

"What would ye call that, then?" Murphy pretended to ponder.

"Murder." Murphy did not reply. She knew she had somehow blurred the line between what they mobsters had done and what they were about to do. _They killed innocent civilians. You're doing the right thing. This is what you're meant to be doing._ Emma chanted lines like this in her head until the sinking feeling lessened. She looked up just as Connor looked back and their eyes met for a moment. She attempted a weak smile.

Emma tried to focus on the passing scenery but not a building or a street name stuck in her memory. Connor hadn't even begun to slow down the car, but somehow Emma knew they were nearing their destination. Finally, her brain clicked on and she understood how easy it was to become a Saint. It was as if something was moving her and she was simply a spectator of her own body. Yet she was completely conscious. She memorized every action and breath in accordance with those of the twins moving next to her.

The warehouse was much smaller than she thought it would be. They had slipped through the back door and were sneaking along a back hallway when Murphy broke their vow of silence.

"Fuckin' morons." He muttered and they all knew he was referring to the fact that there was no one guarding the back door, the back hall or the back way in to the main room of the warehouse. _Amateurs._ Emma thought, then smiled to herself at the hypocrisy of the statement. The three of them crowded on either side of the door and waited for a few seconds to hear any sign of the mobsters on the other side. At first they didn't hear anything and Emma began to think they would be going home without taking the safety off their guns. Then they heard the muffled sounds of laughter and bottles being tapped against each other in a toast. _They were celebrating. These murderers were fucking celebrating._ Connor held up his first finger signaling that they would burst through the door on the count of three. The door swung open easily after Murphy and Connor threw themselves against it.

The three of them stood side-by-side, guns drawn, for not even a second as they took in their surroundings. Murphy fired the first shot straight through one man's head before the rest even knew the door was open. Emma was flustered at first. Connor and Murphy had straight shots threw skulls and hearts next to her while she hadn't pulled the trigger once yet. Then she spotted her man. He was slowly pulling a gun from his pocket when Emma took aim and pulled the trigger.

"Connor, was that ye?" Murphy yelled while still firing his gun.

"No!" Connor called back from facing another direction. Murphy paused for a second to glance at Emma who had a smug look on her face.

"Nice fuckin' shot." Murphy commented on the gushing bloody hole directly between a man's eyes and then resumed focus on his own targets. Emma didn't get another shot in before all of the men in the room were dead and truthfully, she was glad for it. That was enough excitement for one day.

"Murph, where are the pennies?" Connor asked immediately after the last man dropped.

"I've got them." Emma took the pennies from her pocket and handed a pile to Connor. When she glanced up, she saw a door in the back of the room that she hadn't seen before. It was ajar and Emma could see a narrow dark hallway stretch behind it. The door must be the front door considering there were only two doors leading out of the entire building, unless they had missed something. She could have sworn she had seen something move in the hallway just past the door. No, it was just a figment of her imagination. Emma shook her head and turned back to the task at hand.

They moved over to the table where the men had been drinking cheap alcohol and placed pennies on each of their eyes. Without her knowledge, Connor and Murphy had left the one man she had shot for her to pray for and she realized this as they began slowly packing up their things. Emma knelt beside him and crossed his arms over his chest. _This man had a family. You just robbed children of their father and a woman the love of her life. And you killed him. Murderer. _

_XXX_

Emma stood at the sink in the bathroom scrubbing at her arms and hands. The blood that had shed because of her figure on the trigger was long washed off but the feeling remained. She had stripped off her clothes and stood only in her bra and underwear, the only clothes that hadn't been touched in someway by the men now long past dead. Emma hadn't spoken to Murphy and Connor much since their hasty return to the apartment; just a quick "good night" and an excuse for a late night shower. Her hands were red and raw and starting to prune when she heard a light knock on the door.

"Emma that's not shower water runnin' in there. What are ye doin?" Connor's soft voice, which had no resemblance to the man she had fought next to a few hours earlier, sounded from the other side of the door. The clawing feeling in her stomach felt as if it was taking over every cell in her body to the point where she could no longer stand. Her legs softened underneath her and she found herself curled in a ball against the bathtub.

When she didn't reply, Connor's curiosity and worry overcame sense and morals as he opened the bathroom door slowly. His heart nearly shattered when he saw the state she was in. He sat down next to her and waited for her to speak first.

"There's blood on my hands. There's blood on my hands and I can't wash it off." Her voice was shaking.

"No, it's gone. You made the world a safer place tonight; don't ever tell yourself otherwise." Connor took her hand and softly caressed the red skin there. Emma took a shaky breath and wiped at her eyes. She let out a small laugh and inwardly groaned.

"God, I'm being such a girl."

"You had a rough night. We couldn't have asked for better. You were perfect." Connor wrapped a protective arm around her and when she leaned closer, he pulled her to him.

"You guys must be very experienced at calming hysterical women." Emma commented after her breathing had calmed. Listening to the steadiness of Conner's heart seemed to relax every nerve in her body.

"Irish, remember? It's kind of in our blood." Emma laughed.

"Yeah, I just don't know how you guys do it. I don't think my nervous system will be able to handle this becoming a regular activity." Emma said. Connor turned her in his arms so that he could look at her face. It was red and a little splotchy, but she was beautiful.

"It gets easier. I know that sounds crazy, but it does. However, scrubbing yer hands until the skin comes off is something that will have to end." Connor joked taking one of Emma's hands and showing it to her.

"Okay, I'll work on that." Emma was able to let out a genuine smile as she rose to reach for the hand lotion on the sink. She rubbed a soothing blob onto her hands and turned to help Connor up. She grabbed each of his hands in hers and heaved him into a standing position. They looked at each other for a while before Connor pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her. Emma fully relaxed and rested her head on his chest, again, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

"Thank you. I didn't mean to turn into such a baby over this." Emma said pulling away from him.

"Ye had a rough go today. We didn't think ye would be startin' this soon. Ye were supposed to talk with Da first. Now ye'll have much more ta talk about." Connor explained.

"Da? There are more of you…us?" Connor chuckled.

"No, Da's our Da. I don't know how he does it. He always seems to know what's going on. I think he talks to Smecker more than we do. He's who led us to you."

"Wow, you've got an entire team going on this." Emma was slightly surprised to hear this. Every time she had seen their work on the news, they thought it was just luck or running into bad guys in alleyways. She had no idea that all of their hits were so planned and accurate. Her stomach growled loudly and, slightly embarrassed, she looked at Connor to see if he had heard. He had an amused expression.

"Let's tell Murph to order some pizza." Connor suggested.

"No, I'm going to make us dinner." She said beaming up at Connor.

"Are ye serious? We can just order." Connor replied.

"You mean like every other night? No, I'm going to make a nice healthy dinner." She led him out of the bathroom.

"We don't have any food to be cooked, though. Murph! She wants to make us fuckin' dinner." Connor yelled to him.

"Wouldn't she rather just order pizza?" Murphy asked quizzically as the other two entered the living room.

"That's what I said." Connor agreed. In reality, he was just giving her a hard time. After the day they had just had, he wanted to make her happy and if her making dinner would make her happy, then so be it.

"But there's no food. Trust me." Murphy laughed looking guiltily over at the fridge. Emma sighed and laughed at the same time. Looks like she was going out.

"That's okay. Even if you did have food it would probably not be the healthiest thing we could find." Emma searched around for her jacket.

"Healthy?" Connor and Murphy asked at the same time. They said it as if the word had never made its way into their vocabulary.

"Yes. I'm sorry if my diet doesn't only consist of beer and pizza. I can be a bit of a health nut at times. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to the store." Emma announced when she found her jacket. She began moving towards the door but paused. Someone was knocking. All three of them froze. No one ever dared visit them after a hit. Connor was the first to register what was happening.

"Murph, get the guns."


End file.
